Unjustified, innapropriate rage!! I can’t control it. I hate myself for it. The simplest and most insignificant of things can ignite me, and I blow!!
Little man only wanted to go outside to play. He only wanted to do, what he’s always allowed to do. The weather is fierce though and I insisted no.
He ignored my insistence . He pushed and pushed and pushed me. Look! I’m blamng him!, but its not him, its me. For god sake Loopy he’s only 2!
I wanted to shove him through the wall. I wanted to plunge a knife into my gut!! I wanted to explode!!!
I did none of these things, but I don’t trust my self control. What the hell is wrong with me?
Emotionally unstable personality disorder or borderline for those of you in the states. They dropped that little bombshell yesterday in my ward round. A ward round I didn’t know I was having and one that took place after hours so my care coordinator was absent.
It came as a shock. I’m finding it a little difficult to come to terms with.
Having since read up on it (since no one bothered to talk to me about it), I can say it probably makes a lot of sense.
Why the hell was it not picked up sooner?
I headed off at dusk, light rain in my face, a chill that called for gloves and my headlight dipped. It’s been a while since I’ve whirred a chain, and whizzed along the sea front.
It started well, but soon flashes of fiery red curly hair surrounding tear filled tired eyes, interupted the focus of my beam ahead. She was just too young to fully understand, but just old enough to know that Daddy’s never coming home.
Each wave crashing on the rocks, echoed the slapping of a deadly calm sea disturbed only by the racing of a RIB for shore. Emergency services lay in waiting, but it would be too late.
The men shouted at me to gaze forwards and watch for bouys, it wasn’t until some years later that I realised this was an attempt to save the innocence of a young girl who’d not long graduated from childhood. It was too late though, I’d seen it all.
Come on Loopy, shake it off, focus on the path ahead. Switching to full beam as darkness settled, intensified the darkness in my head. Every turning of the crank brought images off those oxygen starved blue lips and grown men fighting back tears as they pounded on a water filled chest.
I’m so sorry. I could have, and should have done more.
I love the sea………..and I hate it!!!
So for the 2nd time since I’ve been in here the lovely staff have attempted to run a relaxation session (around 7.30 pm). Why does every frigging soundtrack involve water sounds or waves? I won’t be attending any other of these sessions. I’m overthinking everything at the moment and as soon as I heard those waves, I was right back in that water, rushing to the surface, watching the failed revival of his blue face.
I wanted to burn, but I didn’t. I asked a staff member to not let me.
Why is this bugging me so much now? It’s a problem. I live by the sea. I feel so much guilt that I didn’t do more.
I took a shower today at 12.15 after bashing a new ball (loaned by lovely staff member) of the wall for a while. Taking a shower these days is actually quite the achievement. From around 12.40 I’ve been trying to get a staff member to allow me access to the obs room so I can dress the burns on my arms. It took until 13.45 for that to happen. I went to the nurses station but was told “just go find a member of staff”. There are none!!!!!
I’ve not yet been able to get a hairdryer so my hair has dried unsightly. I was supposed to go out with OH at 2.00, I’ve told him to hold off until 2.30. I still don’t think I’ll have been able to sort my hair by then. Thus I can’t go. I’m too unsightly in this state. Right now I want to smash every window in the place and tell all the staff (with 2 exceptions) to go F&^K themselves. I hate how I look and you’ve made that worse today.
This is not a place of healing…………
I think I mentioned this in a previous post but I have shared the address for this blog with one of our excellent nurses. Since sharing it, I’d been feeling really awkward around her and I managed to tell her that today. She was lovely, and I needn’t have feared anything. Though I’m still not sure if she has read any of this or not.
We had quite a nice conversation and I managed to tell her how suicidal I am really feeling, and the method I’ve been using to burn.. l think I might pluck up the courage to talk to her more. Once she left I took out my frustration on Wilson and smacked him of the wall for about an hour I reckon.
The frustration by the way stemmed from a PTSD trigger in a relaxation session that was a little unexpected. Telling me to imagine calmly drifting out to sea, brought up some stuff, but the poor staff member wasn’t to know.
Tonight I’m both mentally and psychically tired. Hopefully I will sleep sound.
I’ve mentioned in previous posts that some of my “temporary friends” have now been discharged. The beds they vacated have off course been immediately filled. But I’m starting to realise there is a real problem in the system as many of the new ladies are familiar faces to each other or the staff from previous admissions to various hospitals. They seem to wear these episodes like badges of honour. I listen to them bragging to each other about what they did and how they got sectioned for the 4th time. I spoke about this very topic with my friend yesterday. She works in mental health as a solicitor, and agreed with me that the system is broken. There are truly tragic stories of genuinely ill patients that end up dead due to a lack of resources in and overstretched system.
I hate to say this because it sounds cruel but some patients are here for the attention. That does not in anyway make you less in need of treatment, I would argue that itself is an illness but it puts a huge strain on the system. It also worries me that everyone I’ve chatted with has been in somewhere before. Is that going to be my future? Surely there could be better community support? I wonder if we had to pay for our NHS care (even small amounts) would there be less Munchausen’s syndrome type behaviours in the mental health system.
I’m ashamed of being in here. I shouldn’t be. I know that mental illness is as real as anything physical, but still my up bringing, and family perceptions of mental ill health leaves me with a sense of shame.
Once I’m out, I never intend to come back.
I’m seriously on the brink of smashing a window, or chucking furntiture about. It’s seems to be the only way to get staff to talk to you in here. They make the promises of leave and then off course someone kicks off, gets all thier attention and you’re left to wallow alone.
I feel so fucking alone. I want out, just for a walk by myself to clear my head, just to get away from the mumblings, the constant belching of other patients and the chaos. I’ve had a video sent to me off my son at home with Granny C and it’s upset me. I’m feeling so useless as a mother.
But as usual when I knock on the office door, I get ignored. They don’t even look up from their computer screens, I knock again and yup still ignored………… I’m not the type to shout or get angry at them, but it may have to start.
My head is absolutely racing and I want to burn. I just need space, 15 minutes of space……..
D’s kicking off, throwing cereal boxes around and rambling!, E’s cleaning up clattering the sugar pot lid and smashing fridge shelves about. E’s playing her radio. R comes in and starts playing music on her phone. Staff are chattering and the cleaner arrives with the floor buffer. I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!!!!!!! It’s too much noise…Nails on a blackboard again!!!!!……………………………… I need to get away……………..